


A Few of My Favorite Things

by zvi



Category: CSI: Las Vegas
Genre: Character of Color, F/M, Fingerfucking, PWP, Pegging, Safer Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-08
Updated: 2008-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-01 23:18:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zvi/pseuds/zvi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Presents! Pretty! Pegging!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Few of My Favorite Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zvi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zvi/gifts).



> When I wrote my Dear Santa letter for [I Saw Three Ships](http://sesa.slashx-files.com/), I mentioned that Catherine/Warrick pegging would be very, very pretty. And sameoldhope mentioned that she thought YoBling pegging would be very, very pretty. And I kept thinking about it. And writing a little more. And thinking about it. And writing. And then I realized that I could post it for my birthday, so I stayed up tonight and finished it. Happy Birthday to me, from me.

They'd been hooking up on and off for six months when Warrick said, "Catherine, do me a favor. Get the night off on my birthday. Please?"

She stopped in the doorway to his condo, raised an eyebrow at him. "I don't know what good that does you, since you're scheduled for your birthday."

He shook his head. "Nicky's going to take care of me. Come on, I'm asking you six weeks ahead of time. And I'm willing to bribe you."

"Okay. One favor to be named later—"

Warrick rolled his eyes, but he nodded.

"—in exchange for one evening of what, exactly?"

"Pleasure." He leaned over and kissed her, prodded her out the door. "Don't worry about it. You'll have fun and I'll take care of everything."

And he had. He'd picked her up, picked out her dress, and nearly picked out her dinner. She'd stopped that by saying, "I've got a _blind menu_, Warrick. Let me enjoy the one time in my life that happens."

He'd blinked slowly at her, licked his mouth, and said, "Whatever you want, baby."

Dinner had been excellent, the big band show they'd gone to afterward had gotten them dancing and not quite sweaty, and the car ride home would have been rated for suggestive dialogue if seen on TV.

When she walked in Warrick's living room, Catherine saw the present. It was hard to miss, a tie-sized box on a shirt-sized box, both wrapped in dark red foil paper and tied with a black ribbon. She sat on the couch right behind it and daydreamed that it was for her: a laptop, a vibrator, a crime scene scanner, a guide to surviving her teenage daughter. Any number of things.

Warrick laughed when he brought the drinks, gin and tonic for her and rum and Coke for him. "You want to know what's in there, huh?"

She looked up through her lashes, fluttered them a bit. "Only if you want to show me. It is your birthday."

"And let me say, once again, thank you for a thoroughly humiliating breakfast. I'm glad you invited _everyone_ from the lab."

"Hodges wasn't _invited_. Mandy brought him as her date. You like Mandy."

Warrick shrugged, sat, and said, in his best Mr. Loverman voice, "Not nearly as much as I like you."

Catherine bit her lip, torn between laughter and lust. She took a sip of her drink and looked, not subtly, back at the coffeetable and the boxes. "Come sit with me, Mr. Suave."

He slid down next to her and asked, "You saying my game's not tight? Cath, you wound me."

"I get the feeling," she said, putting a finger to her lip, "that you want something from me." She let her hand drift down to her breasts. When Warrick's eyes didn't follow, she got a little confused. "Or not?"

"I got myself something for my birthday," he said. He had on an easy smile, but his eyes were just a little too wide open. "I want you to help me use it." He shrugged and put a hand on the larger box. "I got you something, too, but I don't know if you'll like it."

Catherine raised an eyebrow. "You got me something for your birthday?" She touched the smaller box. "To help you with this."

"Yeah." He dropped the smile, just looked at her hand on the box and licked his lips. "Yeah, they're sort of … a set."

"So, should I open mine now? Or do you want to ask first?"

He shrugged, one shoulder up and down in an absurdly sexy wave. "Finish your drink and we'll open them together." Warrick tossed back his rum and Coke and looked at her.

Catherine sipped her drink. "You know, you have a very classy fantasy life."

"Hmm?" Warrick was lounging on the couch, but she could see his muscles were taut, ready to … whatever. "You think so."

"Beautiful lady, beautiful dress, beautiful evening. Finished, of course, with kinky sex." She took another sip. "You've got me all hot and bothered now. Don't tell me it's not a sex thing."

He shook his head. "The date," he rolled his eyes, "fantasy, that's not a sex thing. It's — the kinky sex is separate." He reached out and took the glass from her, not quite empty. "The kinky sex is not — it's something that's hot, that I think is hot." He flashed her his 'match and raise' smile. "I hope you agree." He put the larger box in her hands.

She was careful with the wrapping, untying the ribbon, pulling the single piece of tape up too slowly to rip the paper. She liked the slick, cool feel of the paper under her fingers as she folded it and set it on the table.

The box wasn't a box after all. It was a simple black case. When she opened it, she saw leather strips and a metal ring and buckles. She tried to make it resolve into a bra or an armbrace of some kind, but she couldn't work it out. She picked up the leather to show to Warrick.

Warrick's present was some sort of abstract sculpture. It was a wand, about nine inches long, with a blue stripe and a flared base. She blinked, and the thing in Warrick's hand resolved itself into a very nice glass dildo.

She stretched the things in her hand out and said, "Is this a harness?"

Warrick looked cool, but he was stroking the dildo, long fingers moving up and around, up and around. "Yeah, Cath."

"You want me to fuck you with that?" She pointed with her chin at Warrick's toy.

Warrick swallowed hard and said, "Yeah, Cath."

"Good."

* * *

Warrick was stretched out on his bed, naked, face down, and very excited. He twitched when he felt Catherine's hand on his ass, felt himself flush at her throaty little chuckle.

"You want a spanking? Where's your paddle?"

Warrick smiled. "Just use your hand tonight."

"Okay." She smacked him: **crack!**_sting_ **crack!**_sting_ **crack!**_sting_ **crack!**_sting_.

He felt his eyes drift close, his body relaxing as he drifted on the heat from his ass. His dick got hard, almost painful since it was pointing down.

"Up," said Catherine, pulling at his hips. It was better with his ass in the air, head pillowed on his hands. She smacked him again, and that was even better. "You're too quiet," she said.

"You're too soft," he said. He knew she liked it when he did the grunting thing but that was a noise she forced out of him with a paddle, usually. And then she did force it out of him, **whack whack whack** with all her upper body strength, and god damn, he was nearly ready to come just from that. "Catherine," he said. He panted and scratched at the sheets. "I love when you beat me good."

She rubbed his ass, and it felt good, warm hand on his hot ass. He pushed back and up and she scraped her nails over each cheek, just a light drag of the tip over his skin. He could hear the noises he was making get higher pitched. She ran her fingers down along his spine, and he was just gasping, hot and hard and heavy with wanting.

"I think maybe we're ready to get started," she said and she reached for a glove and the lube.

"Give me all you got," he said.

He watched her slip it on, pour lube all over until her whole hand was shiny and purple. "I'm going to stick one finger in your ass to start," she said. He shivered, because he always shivered whenever Catherine said 'ass'; there was something so dirty about his boss (somebody's momma) saying ass and he loved it.

And then she had a slick finger circling his asshole and he shivered some more. It wasn't just slick, it was cold and the contrast made him feel it all, the hardness of her nailtip and the drag of the wrinkly nitrile. He sighed and pushed back. She pushed her finger in.

He could feel it, but there was no real stretch, so he said, "Fill me up, baby, come on."

"You want this bad, huh?" she said and gave it to him.

That was the stuff, smooth slide with the lube, but bumpy where the gloves bunched and gathered. Her fingers were maybe curled a little and he could feel the drag on the outstroke of her hand, and, "Hmmm," he said, encouragingly. "Like that." Her rhythm was smooth and easy and he felt warm and good and open, drifting, almost hypnotized. "Catherine," he said, just to hear the sound in his mouth. "Catherine."

"You ready?" she said, and pulled her fingers all the way out. She got up behind him and put her hands on his hips. "I'm going to fuck you, Warrick. That's what you want, right? This lovely glass dildo up your ass, yeah?"

He shivered and nodded, said, "Please, Catherine, do it. Ah!" The glass was smoother, more even than her fingers, but the raised stripe down the side was subtly textured, and it felt wild when she shoved in him. "God damn!"

They breathed hard, together, for a few seconds. Catherine was crouched over his back, stomach and breasts pushed against his spine, giving him her weight, keeping them solid as he shivered through the shock of it, the sweetness, the burn.

"Please," he said.

"Okay." She eased out of him, most of the way. He could feel the dildo's knob tug at his hole, but she didn't pull out, just let it tug and pull and set him off.

"Catherine," he moaned.

She said nothing, but she inched her way back in, even more slowly than her first entrance. Warrick could feel everything, the sensation lighting up every inch of his ass. He was whimpering. He couldn't help it. The energy of it just kept building as she pushed in so slowly.

"Talk to me, Warrick. You good?" She stilled in him, reached around and stripped her hand down his cock, tugged on his balls.

"Yes. Yeah, I'm flying." Warrick shuddered as she pulled out again, slid back in. He started to pull forward, then pushed back, and they found a rhythm: back and back and forth and forth, stretch and relax and slick and good.

Warrick felt the heat build, the heat and the slippery sweat of Catherine working against him, their bodies wet on each other, wet _for_ each other. He could smell her, too, smell her skin and her breath, mint and gin and woman. He said, "Kiss me." She lunged towards him and he turned his head over his shoulder, but she couldn't quite make the stretch. She put her mouth to his back instead, licked along the spine, bit him between his shoulder blades.

Warrick bucked under her at that, and she sped up in him, and suddenly everything was faster, brighter, harder, and Catherine's hand tightened on his balls, squeeze and release, squeeze and release, squeeze and fuck! Warrick came, hard, his cock push-push-pushing out come and his ass felt wild, insane, trembling on the hard, glass rod inside his body.

He collapsed and Catherine fell down with him, on top of him, and it drove the dildo in his ass again. He grunted.

"Oh," she said and pulled out real slow, sat next to him. She put a hand on his ass, ran her finger through the crack of it.

He hissed and rolled away from her. "I'm fine."

"Uh huh." She got to her knees and leaned over him, spread his asscheeks. "You look okay." She sat against the headboard and smiled at him.

He smiled back, leaned over, and kissed her thigh. "Thank you, Catherine."

She laid a hand on his cheek. "Happy birthday."

"Oh, you think that's everything?" He reached for the buckles on her harness. "Party's not over until everybody's had a good time, you know that."

"I was giving you your minute," she said. She took off her glove, and pitched it in the trashcan next to the bed.

He pulled the harness out from around her, reached across and put it on the night table. "I'm ready for you." He put his hand on the inside of her thigh, hot and sweaty, trembling a little. He squeezed and her legs fell open a little wider.

"Come up here," she said. "I want you to touch me."

He pulled himself up on his knees, between her outstretched legs. He kissed her, full-on, hard-core, tongue and a hint of teeth, put his hands in her hair and sucked her in, breathed in her mouth. He pulled back and said, "Fast or slow?"

"Fast." She laughed, pulled over the box of gloves with one hand, put a hand to his face with the other. "That did more for me than I expected."

That hit Warrick hard, unexpectedly, the wicked heat of that statement making his belly clench. "You nasty, naughty girl. Hmmm." He brushed her hair behind her right shoulder, wrapped his arms around her, and bit at her collarbone. She bucked up just the way he expect, teeny little whimper escaping her mouth. "I'm a take care of you right now."

He grabbed the gloves and pulled on a pair, then dripped lubed all over his left hand. He sat back and pulled Catherine on his lap. He reached between her legs with one finger, but she was wet and open so he added another, set up a rhythm Catherine was rocking up to match, steady 2/4 back and forth that had Catherine panting and sighing, looking at him through half-closed lids.

"That's not the best you can do, Warrick." Catherine brought a hand up to her tits, squeezing and rolling her right nipple in time with the rhythm he'd set up below.

He smiled and leaned forward, brought his other hand around to play her clit. That got a reaction: smile and closed lids and a long soft moan that let him know he'd hit her mark. "Come on, baby, come for me."

He looked down at what he was doing, one set of purple fingers sliding in and out of fat, pink lips, the other hand at the bottom of her bright red bush, twisting and pulling. He could smell the sweet, heavy fruit of her all over his hands and he breathed it in. His mouth watered. He leaned forward and got her left breast in his mouth, nibbled on it just a little.

Catherine reached down and pulled him away from her tit, said, "Kiss me." He pulled his head free, then went for her mouth again.

He kissed her quick and hard and wet, then slid his mouth off to the side, back to her ear. "Damn, girl, you're so sexy," he whispered. "You're so wet for me, that's so good, my hands are so slick inside you, stretching you, touching you, getting you hot, making you—." He stopped when she dug her fingers in his thigh, but he sped up the motion of his hands. He felt her come on his fingers, tight-loose, tight-loose, tight-loose. He stroked her pussy through the last little shudders and waited for her whole body to relax, then he pulled his hands out and ditched the gloves. He stretched out on the bed next to Catherine, put an arm over her belly. "You good, or you want to go some more?"

She laughed at him. "I can use a breather, at least." She scooted down the bed until she was stretched out next to him. "You got anything else planned for the night?"

Warrick turned on his side, nuzzled in to the crook of her neck. "Nah. This was what I wanted." And he closed his eyes.

* * *

Catherine didn't fall asleep, but she knew that Warrick was a regular practitioner of the post-coital nap. She was slowly being won over to the virtues of the after-sex snooze, but tonight there was a little too much muscle ache from the new sexual position. Finally she just got up and grabbed Warrick's robe from the back of the door, went to his bathroom.

The medicine cabinet did not actually contain any medicine, even an over-the-counter pain reliever, but the bright lights suddenly made her realize she was unpleasantly sticky. She got a washcloth hot and wet and wiped her body down, then prepared another one. She went back to the bedroom and dropped the washcloth on Warrick's crotch.

He snuffled and grunted, then sat up abruptly. "Hey," he said. He took the washcloth and started swiping at himself. "You looking for something?"

"Aspirin?"

He smiled and said, "I keep my OTCs in here." He pulled open the second bedside drawer. "Take what you want."

She got acetaminophen and dry-swallowed a couple of pills, then sat back on the bed. "Hey, Warrick?"

"Yeah?"

"What was this about?" she asked. She pulled the robe around a little tighter. "You do this every year?"

He snorted. "What? Try a new sexual position for my birthday?"

She rolled her eyes. "Not just that. The date, too. I mean, a blind menu?"

He smiled at her, leaned back against his headboard, taking up space with his presence. "I wanted to treat you right for my birthday, that's all." He shrugged. "I like taking care of you, but you don't need me to."

She blinked at him. That was not the answer she'd been expecting at all. "Thanks," she said, a little uncertainly.

He shook his head. "Thank _you_." He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "We had the day I wanted."


End file.
